


memories stealing his composure

by peternureyev



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angband, Angst, Drabble, M/M, Memories, Short, implied melkor/mairon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 04:47:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3474986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peternureyev/pseuds/peternureyev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>what am i without you?</p>
            </blockquote>





	memories stealing his composure

copper curls snaked over his neck, hanging loose and wild, silky soft strands blowing gently in the wind. he stood and stared blankly into oblivion.

the memory of warmth next to him, the memory of hair dark as coal mingling with his fire coloured tresses. the memory of whispered words deep in the night, scarred hands stroking his back.

_things that he could never know again._

he remembered the first time they’d met. his adoring hero worship, those dark eyes meeting his. the deeper, darker desire in his chest, consuming his body like black smoke. who he’d been and who he was. stolen moments at midnight, lust burning him up.

striding through smog and smoke, his master at his side, blades of ice and fire shattering the willpower of their enemies. together, rulers, names instilling fear in those of arda. the death and destruction they’d bring, the secret pleasure he took in making suffering for melkor.

_melkor, who was gone._

the memories tormented him, and he wanted to scream. but he stood stoically. a thousand hundred sunsets had he seen, a thousand hundred more he would suffer. no one could understand his anguish.

_what am i without you?_

broken dreams cast aside, shattered moments on the cold stone floor, rust red locks fluttering in the breeze, the red mingling with black. seduction, corruption.

finally he broke down, letting loose sob after sob, great wracking cries that rocked the mountains. he was oh so alone, self-control crashing down. whispers on the wind seemed to mock him, taunting him with snatches of his lover’s name, his voice, his beauty.

mairon let himself cry, memories stealing his composure.


End file.
